


I Will Try to Fix You

by DoIEverForgetThePie



Series: Supernatural: One Shots [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Wings, Destiel - Freeform, Future, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Mark of Cain, dean/cas - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 09:11:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4095262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoIEverForgetThePie/pseuds/DoIEverForgetThePie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who will Castiel become?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Try to Fix You

**Author's Note:**

> Just a tiny drabble

When Castiel saw his wings for the first time after his stint with humanity those human emotions that he wasn’t supposed to feel flared violently inside of him. There was anger, disappointment, anguish. There was nothing good, every emotion he felt turned his stomach in such a human way. Part of him wished he could return to a to a time when orders were easier to obey. When he could push his questions aside and soldier on. Another part wished he could have just left his grace in that library. That he could have stopped ingesting the stolen grace and slowly fade away as a human. Now, however, he had these wings that were tattered and broken. Wings that pained him both physically and emotionally. They were useless, only there to remind him of his descent from all that was holy.

Looking at his wings confused Castiel. Who was he? What was he? Remnants of his wings hanging off his back and the traces of humanity pumping slowly through his veins were a toxic cocktail of things that could silently push him over the edge. Who was Castiel before? Castiel was an angel once, but not now. Angels were strong, unfaltering in their willingness to follow orders; that was not Castiel…. it never had been. Who is Castiel now? Castiel is a being, broken from his fall and full of something between regret and confusion. Castiel is not an angel. The question ultimately fell to: Who will Castiel become?

Castiel steadied himself as he pulled himself from the ground. His body protested angrily against any movement. His vessel had many broken bones. He wrapped his fingers around the angel blade that Dean had plunged into the book beside his head. Something ached in Castiel’s heart, he thought he may have been dying. He pulled the shining silver blade from where it stuck with one fluid motion. He was broken, but his grace wouldn’t allow him to stop going. He pushed the blade back up his sleeve and stood in the center of the Bunker's library. His head was swimming in a hazy mixture of betrayal and let down. The thought _how could things have gotten this bad_? Sounded the loudest in his brain.

Sam’s feet were thudding against the floor of the Bunker as he rounded the corner into the library. Castiel couldn’t see Sam, as his back faced the door way, but he could hear the tormented cry that left his lips when he saw the destruction.

“Dean did all this,” he wasn’t asking because he knew.

“Dean did everything,” Castiel responded, his deep voice strained and slightly slurred due to a broken jaw.

“…Cas?” Sam wondered, slowly approaching his friend.

Cas turned to expose his battered exterior to the tall man before him. “Dean tried to kill me,” he forced out. He was empty inside, a numbness had settled deep into his bones.

Sam made a pained sigh and cradled his head in his hands.

Castiel looked around, first to Sam then to the young man in the pool of blood on the floor. Eventually his eyes landed on the pile of Dean’s things. Things that Dean once treasured, that were now silent reminders to his family of what they had lost.

_What will Castiel become?_

Castiel didn’t know then, but he would fix Dean Winchester. Castiel would become the hammer to the nail that would mend a broken man.

After the Mark of Cain left Dean, Castiel spent years, upon years nursing Dean’s injured psyche. Spending night after night by Dean’s bedside. At first, the time together was silent. Dean wouldn’t speak and neither would Castiel. More often than not, Dean would face the wall and Castiel would bury his head in his hands. Most nights, he would sit beside the bed and grip tight to Dean’s arm as he twisted among the sheets in agony from his night terrors.

Then came the day when Dean found his voice to speak to Castiel. It wasn’t deep or profound. Dean simply looked up at him through haggard eyes. His was face aged much further than it had been the day they met in the ramshackle barn.

“Thanks, Cas.”

Castiel hadn’t been expecting Dean to say anything, but the shock didn’t read on his face. He only nodded his head. “Don’t thank me.“

Dean looked confused as he laid back on the bed. Castiel knew that within that thank you was an apology that Dean would never be able to verbalize, because that wasn’t who Dean Winchester was.

His wings were still there. Still angry and sore on his back even after many years, but they became less of a reminder of pain and more of a reason to do good for Dean. Castiel had been the angel perched on Dean’s shoulder for some time. He was okay with only being part of was what he was, as long as he could continue to fix Dean.

Castiel was just… Castiel. Which was more than he could have ever wanted to be.


End file.
